


and at last i see the light

by Bara_no_Uta



Category: Caduceus | Trauma Center Series
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bara_no_Uta/pseuds/Bara_no_Uta
Summary: “What do you want me to say?” she shot, her hands balling into fists around the sheets, as if that would hide their trembling.“How I can support you,” Esha answered, as though it were such a simple question.Part of her wanted to accept the offer. Part of her wanted so badly to open up and seek the reassurance that she knew Esha would actually be entirely willing to give, were she only to know that it was needed. So why was it that she couldn’t stop herself from demanding, “You can support me by leaving me the hell alone!”?The outburst surprised her momentarily, but in a way, she had almost expected it. If anything, it was more of a surprise that Maria hadn’t lashed out until now – undoubtedly in part because of her exhaustion.
Relationships: Esha Patel & Maria Torres
Kudos: 2





	and at last i see the light

**Author's Note:**

> I definitely headcanon Esha and Maria as having a mother-daughter dynamic, and I'm always wanting to explore that in fics but often have gotten sidetracked by choosing shippy things (aka Naomi/Maria) instead...

Maria tossed again, feeling her temper flare. Finally, she threw the blanket off herself and sat up. Apparently her body wasn’t going to cooperate tonight, either. She had even thought maybe a change of scenery would help, and tried sleeping on her office sofa instead of going back home for the night, but apparently nothing was going to work.

Irritation swirling through her with such intensity she felt sick (or maybe it was the lack of sleep), she got to her feet and headed to Resurgam’s gym. If she wasn’t going to be able to sleep, at least she could burn off some steam.

Removing her motorcycle gloves, she strapped on a pair of boxing gloves and made her way to the sandbag. Who said punching things wasn’t a good way to deal with anger? Certainly not Maria.

Minutes went by, Maria attacking the sandbag with everything she had. Even though she was exhausted, her body felt filled to the brim with nervous and angry energy that nothing so far had gotten rid of. With the sleeve of her jacket, she wiped sweat from her brow. She probably ought to take a break and drink some water.

But the minute she started to take her gloves off, the _feeling_ was back. The vague sense of panic that she couldn’t help but instinctively run from. The sense of panic that she had been running from for weeks now, ever since the Rosalia pandemic. Even when she had managed to get a few hours’ sleep, it was always jarred by a nightmare, or inexplicably waking in the middle of the night with her heart pounding.

So she put the gloves back on and continued to fight the punching bag, as if it were the source of her distress and hitting it enough would cure her unease.

The room started to spin a bit. Despite her desperate need to avoid her feelings, Maria recognized that as a sign that it was time to stop. Her ears starting to ring, she struggled in an effort to take her gloves off despite the numb tingling in her hands. When her vision started to spot, she had been around enough people on the brink of fainting that she knew what was about to happen, intentionally trying to get as low to the ground as she could before losing consciousness.

When she opened her eyes, she was looking up at the ceiling of a hospital room. The first thing she noticed was the IV in her arm, probably to give her fluids.

The next thing she noticed was the woman at her bedside, reading a book and not seeming to have noticed her wake.

This was not a conversation she was looking forward to. But it also wasn’t one she could avoid, so… she may as well just get it over with. “You don’t have to tell me that I was being stupid,” Maria mumbled, turning her back to the Chief. “I already know.”

Esha looked up, seeming startled by the statement. She hesitated, a question in her eyes, before sighing and gathering her thoughts. “So you know that you were sleep deprived, dehydrated, and haven’t been eating enough?”

“…Yes.”

“And you decided to go to the gym anyway?”

“…Yes.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at Esha. There wasn’t any judgment in her tone, just complete confusion, and in some ways, that felt worse. Between the obviously genuine concern and her exhaustion, it was hard for her to put up walls of defensiveness.

She seemed at a loss for words. Finally, she asked, “Why, Maria?”

The panic was starting to rise in her chest again, and she cringed as the heart monitor on her finger advertised that for Esha to see as well. Her mind scrambled through disjointed thoughts and fragments of unwelcome memories for a reasonable response. “ I told you, because I’m stupid. Go ahead and lecture me and leave me alone.” She spoke with as much anger as she could muster, as if it would hide her vulnerability.

Her gaze had flickered to the reading on the heart monitor, watching Maria’s bpm spike, before falling back on Maria’s figure curled under the blanket. It was clear that there was missing information here. Originally, she had very much planned to scold Maria for her negligence toward her own health and how that could have gotten someone killed were she in the field. But there was something more to this that she just couldn’t quite put her finger on, and she felt that perhaps a gentler approach was warranted.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Esha said firmly, her voice softening as she continued. “Stubborn, yes. But intelligent without a doubt. I don’t think you need to be lectured – and I definitely don’t think you need to be left alone right now. …Or did you think I wouldn’t notice that you’ve been withdrawing from everyone lately?”

She felt vulnerable. She felt called-out and seen-through. “Can I take the heart monitor off now that I’m awake?” she said, fighting hard to keep her voice steady. At least if she didn’t have to wear that, Esha wouldn’t see so clearly how afraid she really felt.

“…Okay.” She turned the machine off, ensuring it wouldn’t start beeping alerts in response to reading “0 bpm” when Maria removed its monitor.

She removed it, and then they sat in silence. It occurred to her in dread that Esha was fully intending to wait for her to respond. “What do you want me to say?” she shot, her hands balling into fists around the sheets, as if that would hide their trembling.

“How I can support you,” Esha answered, as though it were such a simple question.

Part of her wanted to accept the offer. Part of her wanted so badly to open up and seek the reassurance that she knew Esha would actually be entirely willing to give, were she only to know that it was needed. So why was it that she couldn’t stop herself from demanding, “You can support me by leaving me the hell alone!”?

The outburst surprised her momentarily, but in a way, she had almost expected it. If anything, it was more of a surprise that Maria hadn’t lashed out until now – undoubtedly in part because of her exhaustion. Esha shook her head, though aware Maria wasn’t looking at her. “Is that really what you want—”

“Yes!”

She continued, unperturbed. “—Or is it just what you know?”

Maria shook her head as vehemently as she could while still lying down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Looking into the distance, the Chief thought her words over carefully before speaking. “I know you’ve started to open up sometimes, since you’ve been here. But I also know that for some of us, it’s when we need help the most that we least know how to ask for it.”

That got Maria’s attention. Careful not to disturb the IV in her arm, she turned to finally face her. “Us?”

She smiled sadly. “You remind me of myself when I was younger.”

Maria had no rebuttal for that, instead averting her eyes. She thought so highly of Esha that it was hard to imagine her as reckless or stubborn… but now that she thought of it, maybe “decisive” was what stubborn could look like in a leadership position. And it was true that Esha had never sought their support, but that seemed natural with her position as Chief.

Sensing she had gotten through some of Maria’s walls, she decided to try again. “Will you tell me what’s been going on?”

Needing to appear less vulnerable than she felt, Maria sat up, her knees tented in front of her on the bed and arms loosely crossed over them. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” she said again.

“The truth. Whatever you’re comfortable sharing. Past that, there are no right or wrong answers here.”

It was hard to believe that. All she could think of was—was…

_If I had known you were going to answer like **that** , I never would have asked you! Get off the ground you stupid little—_

_No, make it stop!_ Maria squeezed her hands until her nails dug painfully into her skin.

“Maria?” she called, worry evident in her voice and features. The fear and helplessness in Maria’s expression, the sudden rigidity of her body… Something was going on here. Something deeper than Maria being stubborn and not wanting to sleep. That had been pretty clear from the beginning, but she was glad she had trusted her gut about it.

Esha’s voice grounded her a little more effectively, even as the world suddenly felt distant and dreamlike. When she spoke, she felt unsure whether the words were really coming from her own mouth. “I’m broken, Chief.”

Of all the things she had been expecting, honestly, that was not one of them. Something felt off about Maria right now, too, even if she couldn’t place it. She came closer, sitting on Maria’s bedside in the empty space available since Maria had drawn her knees close. “You’re not broken,” she assured her, but decided not to push further and let Maria answer further on her own time.

Crap. She knew something for this feeling. What was it? What… oh, she could remember the beginning of it. It had been so long since she had actually used this, but she was desperate to get it together in front of Esha. _Five things I can see. The Chief… the IV bag… the clock… the whiteboard… the heart monitor._

Esha watched, puzzled as Maria’s eyes moved around the room. She seemed purposeful in it, so Esha decided it better not to interrupt.

_Four things I can feel. The blanket is smooth…_ She flattened her hands against the blanket. _The bed under me._ She brought one hand to her waist, feeling the fabric there. _My shirt._ One more thing… She placed her hand over her abdomen. _My breathing._ She was starting to feel calmer now. Feeling suddenly self-conscious as she was sure Esha was wondering what in the world she was doing, she decided to abandon it there. She rolled her shoulders and shook her head, as though to dissipate the last of the memory from her mind.

Whatever Maria had been doing, it seemed to have helped calm her, so that was a good thing. Esha was honestly content to wait however long Maria needed, so long as the silence was helpful and not just another defense mechanism to push her away.

When she spoke, she decided to lay at least some of her cards on the table. To put some trust in the Chief, no matter how uncomfortably vulnerable that felt. After all, Esha had just watched her go through a number of different little panics, so if she was going to judge her… surely she would have already done so by now, right? And yet Esha was still sitting there patiently, just seeming concerned.

“I was doing a lot better,” Maria said, hanging her head, unable to meet Esha’s gaze. “It… really hasn’t been an issue since—for a long time. But I guess something about the damn pandemic put me basically right back at square one.”

She waited, unable to follow quite what Maria was saying. It was obvious from the drop of Maria’s shoulders and her hanging head that she was carrying shame about whatever this was. Esha didn’t want to force her to talk, but she also wanted her to know it was okay to talk about it, and didn’t want her to bottle everything up inside. She knew all too well how painful that was. When it became evident that Maria was not going to continue, she carefully prompted, “With?”

It was hard to avoid the urge to hide from sight, and yet there was nowhere for her to hide. She felt so distressingly exposed that all she could do was to pull her knees a little closer to her chest. “You know, I wasn’t a very good kid. I guess I was too much for my mom. And then I went to the orphanage, and I was too much for them too. When I was 14, they sent me to a residential place for fucked up kids like me, where I had therapy like every single day. I guess I have ‘PTSD.’ I used to think that was just for war veterans, but nope, apparently your mom beating you can do that too.”

Esha found herself momentarily speechless. There were so many thoughts running through her mind, ranging from empathy for Maria’s experiences to wondering if Maria’s claim she wasn’t a good child meant she blamed herself. What she eventually decided on was, “That isn’t anything to be ashamed of, Maria. It wasn’t your fault.”

She blinked quickly against the sting of tears in her eyes. “Yeah. I guess.”

Her heart ached. “Look at me,” Esha requested, though was careful to put enough of a question in her tone that Maria would know it was an invitation, not a demand. When Maria did, she said again, “It was _not_ your fault. I know, sometimes… when terrible things happen, and there’s no one to blame, sometimes all we know how to do is blame ourselves. But in this case, your mother is definitely to blame. You were a child, okay? No matter what you did, it was her job to take care of you. There’s no excuse for hurting you.”

Maria looked away again, unable to speak for fear that she would start to cry. “Thank you,” she managed.

“You’re welcome. I’m just telling the truth.”

She smiled at Esha, even if a few stray tears seemed to take that as opportunity to escape. “I guess I should go back to therapy again. I just… thought I was past this. It pisses me off.”

“I understand. But I think it’s natural… You said you knew Rosalia from before, so it makes sense that what happened would bring back memories.” She looked into the distance, debating how much of her own story to share. “It’s not the same, but I once went through something… extremely difficult. And every year, there are a few times a year, and certain kinds of things that still bring up those memories. I think it’s normal that it takes time, or that things might come up in new ways.”

She considered the words. When Esha spoke about herself, it was harder for Maria to put up her usual walls of anger and defensiveness. “When you put it that way… it makes sense,” she acquiesced.

Esha smiled, though the concern was still very much there. “Do you think you’ll be able to get some sleep tonight?”

Taking mental inventory of her body, Maria found that she did feel calmer than she had in a while. As much as she stubbornly liked to insist to herself that there was no point in talking about things… she couldn’t deny that evidence to the contrary was right in front of her. “I can try. I… The reason I haven’t been sleeping isn’t just because I’m being stubborn. I’ve been waking up a lot and having nightmares most nights, when I can even fall asleep.”

“All I ask is that you try,” she assured her. While there were pharmacological solutions to insomnia, Maria clearly knew about them as a doctor and had decided not to pursue them, so she didn’t bring them up.

Maria nodded, letting her knees start to relax.

Esha stood so that Maria could lay back down. “Good night, Maria.”

“Good night, Chief.” She waited until Esha was almost at the door before quietly adding, “And Chief? …Thanks.”

She turned back, smiling. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow.”


End file.
